


Follow The Sun

by LovelyRita1967



Series: Jitters [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betaed, Boys Kissing, Coffee Shops, Established Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kissing, M/M, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Sex, Sexual Tension, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25036249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967
Summary: Jaskier is an aspiring musician working in a coffee shop. Geralt is a fancy lawyer in expensive suits. Against all odds, they have been dating for 4 weeks. Most of this fic is a flashback to Part 1 (“Jitters”), but this time it's from Geralt’s perspective, plus a little bit of his lawyer world with Lambert and Eskel. And then finally, we see where Geralt and Jaskier are now as their relationship gets a little more serious. (Hint: check the tags!)I would highly recommend reading “Jitters” first!Jaskier was standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Geralt’s penthouse condo, high above the lights of Kaedwen, admiring the view. Geralt was admiring the view, too, all long lines, sharp jaw, soft brown hair. Jaskier turned away from the window suddenly to look at him.“You look really fucking hot in that tux,” he said, voice low.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Jitters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813129
Comments: 76
Kudos: 473
Collections: The Modern Witcher AU Collection





	Follow The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to [Fayet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fayet/pseuds/Fayet), who shared so many juicy lawyer tidbits with me. 
> 
> I owe everything to [Blaire_Seton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton), the very best beta in the world and a dear friend, even though we’re half a world apart and have never met! One day, Blaire!

Jaskier was standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Geralt’s penthouse condo, high above the lights of Kaedwen, admiring the view. Geralt was admiring the view, too, all long lines, sharp jaw, soft brown hair. Jaskier turned away from the window suddenly to look at him. 

“You look really fucking hot in that tux,” he said, voice low. He started to move towards Geralt slowly, hips swaying. 

Geralt swallowed hard. Jaskier closed the gap between them, his eyes intent on Geralt’s. 

When Jaskier finally stood in front of Geralt, he gently rested his hands on those broad shoulders, then slid them down his chest. Geralt shivered at the touch, but otherwise held still. 

When those long fingers reached Geralt’s waist, they slid back up inside the jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. He pulled the jacket down Geralt’s arms and tossed it onto the couch next to them without looking. 

“Really…. really…. fucking hot,” he whispered. 

* * * *

This had all started because Geralt just wanted a decent fucking espresso. The chain in the lobby was shit, and when he finally had a few extra minutes on a Monday morning, he ducked out of the office to head across the street into a local place that looked promising. 

He thoughts drifted back to work as he eyed the menu board, mentally preparing himself for a scrap he knew coming with an opposing counsel. 

“Good morning!” he heard, rather loudly. “What can I get for you, sir?”

Geralt looked at the man behind the till, and the first thought he ever had about Jaskier was:

_ Blue. _

Jaskier’s eyes were wide and the most startling shade of cornflower blue Geralt had ever seen. 

“Double espresso, to go. Please,” he managed to say, with only a slight hesitation. 

“Absolutely! One double espresso coming right up! Can I get a name?”

“Geralt.” 

“Geralt! Thank you!” he said, rather enthusiastically. “$2.85, please.” 

Geralt paid for his espresso, frowning as his phone buzzed in his pocket again. He moved down the counter to wait for his drink, and pulled his phone out. 

For gods’ sake. 

With a weary sigh, he flipped over to his email and began to read the updated contract proofs. This was about the twenty-fifth version that Lambert had sent him, and he was still mulling over the changes when he grabbed his drink and strode back to the office. 

It was good fucking espresso. And late that night, when Geralt gratefully collapsed into his bed, he saw those blue eyes watching him. 

* * * * 

They watched him all week, in fact. They watched him while he was sitting around a conference table glaring at the stuffed suits on the other side. They watched him while he was pacing around his condo at 3:00 a.m. yelling into his phone. They even watched him while he was making an argument before a judge. Finally, the pull of the coffee shop across the street was too strong to ignore. 

Geralt had been buried in paperwork all day Friday with the prospect of a late night looming. The others around the conference table paused to order food and call their loved ones to beg forgiveness for missing yet another family dinner when Geralt slipped out for a coffee. 

He told himself to not be surprised if the man with the blue eyes wasn’t even there, yet he found himself holding his breath in anticipation when he pushed through the door. 

And there he was. 

The eyes were even bluer than he remembered, and this time he couldn’t help but admire the rest of the man, too. He was tall, almost as tall as Geralt, but lean and lithe where Geralt was not. He had soft, wavy brown hair falling into his eyes, and Geralt watched as he ran his fingers through it. 

Their eyes met, and Geralt felt a hitch in his breath. 

His smile was breathtaking.  _ He _ was breathtaking. 

“Good afternoon, Geralt,” he said softly, and Geralt felt an immediate squeeze to his heart. He had remembered his name. He probably remembered every customer’s name, of course. 

“It was Geralt, wasn’t it?” the man asked. Geralt felt an immediate sense of shame that he hadn’t bothered to notice his name tag last time. 

“Yes, that’s right. Double espresso to go, please…. Jaskier.” His eyes flicked to the name tag this time. 

“That will be $2.85, please.” Geralt handed him a five, wondering for a moment what else he could say right now.  _ Lovely fall we’re having? _ Fuck no. 

“Do you work around here?” Jaskier asked suddenly, and Geralt could hardly believe that this beautiful man was actually making conversation with  _him_. 

“Yes, I just started working across the street.” He wondered if he should add more, but Jaskier was probably just making polite small talk. 

“Oh, well, welcome to the neighbourhood!” he replied brightly. The heat from the smile he gave made Geralt feel like he was starting to sweat. Fuck. 

Unable to summon a single word, Geralt simply nodded at him and went to pick up his espresso. 

He told himself not to stare at Jaskier while he was waiting, but he couldn’t resist one quick look back as he was leaving. 

His stomach jolted when those gorgeous fucking eyes were looking right back at him. 

He couldn’t help but smile, then he was out back into the world, disoriented from the sunshine and his churning stomach. He took a deep breath and shook his head and wondered what exactly was happening to him. 

Friday was indeed a late night. So late, in fact, that it bled entirely into Saturday, and Geralt grabbed a couple hours of sleep on the couch in his office. He told himself that he would absolutely need a double espresso or two to clear the fuzz from his brain, but Jaskier wasn’t in the shop when he went on Saturday. Either time. 

* * * * 

Monday afternoon the chaos of the office was starting to get to Geralt, so he grabbed his laptop and told himself the relative quiet of the coffee shop was just what he needed to get through these depositions. 

Geralt was relieved to see Jaskier behind the counter, and he slipped into the line, watching Jaskier smile so warmly at each customer. Unfortunately, when it was Geralt’s turn, Jaskier was still patiently waiting for a woman digging through her purse, and he was forced to give his order to the pretty woman with curly brown hair whose name tag said “Triss”. He ordered his double espresso, still painfully aware of Jaskier’s smile, and light, musical voice. 

Geralt nodded at Jaskier as he went to wait for his drink and he swore Jaskier’s eyes lit up when he smiled back. 

Geralt took his espresso and settled down at a small round table by the window. He pulled out his laptop and started reading a deposition as he sipped his drink. He was right, he actually did find it easier to focus, and slipped comfortably into the task. 

Mostly. His stomach lurched when he saw Jaskier heading his way with a bussing tub in his hands. Geralt did his best to stay focused on his screen, but was very, very aware of the tall figure moving closer. 

A large crash suddenly startled him and he looked up to see Jaskier standing only a couple feet away, seemingly frozen with the tub in his hands, staring at him. 

Geralt stared back.  _ Why is he staring? What was happening? Oh gods, what should he say? _ He looked back at his screen to give his thoughts a second to form a coherent sentence, but when he looked up again, Jaskier was gone. He caught the sight of an elegant, tapered back disappearing through a swinging door. 

_ Fuck _ . 

That wasn’t ideal. 

Geralt watched the closed door helplessly, and he noticed Triss saying something sharply to a cackling blonde, which from here looked sort of like “fuck off”. Geralt felt himself warming to her already. 

He read a bit longer and was relieved to see Jaskier appear back at the till. He gathered his belongings and his courage and carried his empty cup over. 

Jaskier watched him approach, and Geralt met his eyes, feeling the jolt from that heady blue gaze again.

“Thank you, Jaskier. See you next time.” 

“Yes, you bet,” Jaskier replied in what was maybe a higher pitch than normal. 

Geralt took a deep breath as he stepped outside, and felt pretty pleased about the way he managed to wrestle that visit out of the jaws of defeat. 

* * * * 

Jaskier tugged at Geralt’s bow tie, pulling it free and tossing it in the general direction his jacket had gone moments earlier. 

He reached for Geralt’s shirt, undoing the top button, and then the next. 

Geralt watched him hungrily, and after a third button was undone, he pulled Jaskier in for a kiss. 

The kiss was starting to get really interesting (other parts of Geralt were interested, that is) when Geralt’s private elevator dinged, and they pulled apart, panting. 

Geralt groaned audibly when his brother Eskel strolled off the elevator, still in his tux. 

“Scotch?” Eskel asked with a grin, displaying the very expensive bottle in his hand. 

Geralt rubbed his forehead. “Why are you here, Eskel?”

“You guys left the party too early! Just got the papers signed on the Temeria deal,” he crowed, wandering towards the wet bar in search of glasses. “Lambert said we’re celebrating!”

“Lambert?” Oh fucking gods, their younger brother was here, too. 

“He’s just in the lobby finishing a call.” Eskel uncorked the bottle with a loud pop and began pouring into four tumblers.

He carried three over the couch and handed one to each man before flopping down in an armchair. 

Geralt gave Jaskier a pained smile, but Jaskier shrugged and grinned back broadly, settling onto the couch with his drink. 

Geralt had had other plans for Jaskier this evening, but judging by his cheerful expression he didn’t seem to mind the interruption at all. Who didn’t like Eskel, after all? At first he came across as just large and burly, and people seemed to find him intimating as fuck when he glowered at them across a conference table. But once you got over the glowering, you learned that he was kind and loving, and he had always been the most important person in Geralt’s adult life. 

Eskel had reminded Geralt many, many times that he, in fact, did have a heart, and it was okay to listen to it. 

* * * * 

Geralt had to head out of town Tuesday for an overnight trip to meet with a client, and he definitely spent some time thinking about the way Jaskier’s wavy brown hair sometimes fell over his left eye. He sipped some truly terrible airport espresso and imagined what it might feel like to push that hair back off his forehead. 

Thursday he was stuck in court for the morning, but when he got back to the office, he found his feet steering him across the street into the coffee shop before heading up the tower. 

He felt warm when he saw Jaskier, his eyes lingering on soft lips. He noticed the tip of Jaskier’s tongue would often dart out before he spoke, and then Geralt thought some more about that tongue and what else it might do.

When he finally got to the front of the line his fantasy had… expanded considerably, and he could feel his face flushing. 

“Wow…,” Jaskier started, and Geralt panicked for a moment. His face must be bright red. 

“I mean… that’s a nice suit,” Jaskier added, and Geralt nearly sagged with relief. 

He realized this would be the first time Jaskier had seen him wearing a full suit. Normally his jacket and tie were discarded on the couch the moment he arrived in his office. 

“Thank you,” Geralt replied, feeling his cheeks flush even further. “I just came from court,” he offered. 

“Oh, wow. You’re a lawyer?” Jaskier looked impressed and Geralt felt that familiar uncomfortable squeeze in his chest when people were impressed by his career. It really was nothing impressive. It was basically just working out deadline schedules for clients and answering idiotic requests from dickhead lawyers at other firms. 

“Yes. I work at Vesemir & Sons…,” he cleared his throat and suddenly found himself completely out of things to say. Jaskier wouldn’t want to hear about it. 

The silence stretched well into awkward. 

“We have live music tonight,” came the voice of an angel. Triss. He knew he liked her. 

Geralt looked at Triss politely. “Oh?”

“Yes, we have shows Thursdays at 6:00. We like to feature local, up-and-coming artists and Jaskier here -” Triss clapped him on the shoulder, “- is actually performing tonight for the first time! You should totally come! He’s so talented.” 

“Oh, really?” Geralt turned to look at Jaskier with interest. He was a musician, too?

“I’m sure you already have plans,” Jaskier jumped in, “but yeah, sure, if you’re free and you’re in the neighbourhood, and you know, you feel like stopping by-” 

_ Yes! _ he yelled in his head, while the rest of his brain shuffled through his calendar. 

“Hmm. Well, I -” Geralt cleared his throat. 

“I mean, you don’t have to of course…” Jaskier started to say, right as Geralt continued. 

“I have a meeting with a client at 5:00…”

“Of course! You’re busy! It’s fine…”

“But yes, if I can…”

_Stop interrupting him_ , Geralt admonished himself. Mercifully, Triss rescued him again. 

“Can I get you a drink?”

Geralt ordered his usual, exceedingly thankful that she was there. 

On his way up the elevator Geralt texted his assistant to reschedule his 5:00. 

* * * * 

Geralt was about to leave when he got bogged down in a ridiculous discussion with Lambert over which tie he should wear on his date that night. Finally at 5:54 he told Lambert to fuck off. He made sure to grab his own tie and jacket, remembering the way Jaskier had looked at him in his suit. He waited impatiently for the elevator and all but ran across the street. 

He arrived at 6:01, heart pounding. Whether it was from his hurry to get here, or the anticipation of seeing Jaskier perform, he couldn’t say. 

A woman that Geralt had seen around the shop was at a mic standing on a small platform, and Jaskier was just stepping onto it, carrying his acoustic guitar. Their eyes met for a moment, and Geralt smiled to himself when Jaskier appeared to lose his balance for a tiny second. 

The moment Jaskier sang his first note, Geralt felt his breath leave him. His voice was pure and sweet, and imbued with genuine warmth and joy for what he was doing. 

He melted into his seat, basking in Jaskier’s sunshine. 

Geralt found he was unable to tear his eyes away, but he noticed Jaskier didn’t look at him much, his eyes flitting around the room instead.

His second song was even better than the first, and before he started his third, Geralt saw Jaskier pause for a moment, and a soft, private smile warmed his face. 

When the first few notes of “I’ll Follow The Sun” filled the air, Geralt felt a shiver down his spine. Eskel’s mom used to sing him this song when he was small, and it was the only memory Eskel had of her. He even had a tattoo of some of the lyrics on his inner arm. 

Geralt thought about all the times he had come across Eskel lying on the floor in his office with the lights off and the Beatles playing. When Geralt was having a bad day, or was grumbling and growling at people even more than normal, Eskel would tell him to follow the sun. Focus on the positive. Enjoy the good things while you have them. 

Now, watching Jaskier, Geralt felt something warm and fizzy bubbling up inside him. 

The crowd applauded enthusiastically when he finished, and Jaskier smiled, bobbing his head appreciatively. Before he could even think about what he was doing, Geralt was up and moving towards Jaskier.

“Your meeting ended in time,” Jaskier smiled at him as he gently rested his guitar on the ground. 

Geralt squirmed and imagined himself admitting, “ _Oh, I cancelled it so I wouldn't miss you.” _ Fucking nope.

“Yes. It did. That was very- You were… good,” Geralt said instead, suddenly finding himself unable to meet that bright blue gaze. 

“Uh, thank you,” Jaskier smiled.

It suddenly occurred to Geralt that perhaps Jaskier might want to go get a drink with him and he took a breath to ask when a beautiful brunette woman appeared behind Jaskier.

“Excuse me, Jaskier?” she said loudly, and Jaskier turned to her. “Hi, I’m sorry, I just wanted to say that you were amazing.” 

Geralt wanted to smack himself. Of course. Of course beautiful women would want to talk to the gorgeous and talented musician. He was absolutely in the way here. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” Jaskier said warmly. She took a step closer and rested a hand on his arm. 

“Really, really amazing,” she said in a sultry voice. 

Jaskier turned back to Geralt, right as Geralt decided he should really get the fuck out of there.

“I should get going...” he said, pointing his thumb at the door. 

“Yes, of course. You should go. Thank you for coming.” Jaskier picked up his guitar again. 

Geralt paused for a moment. He wanted to tell Jaskier how much he enjoyed watching him sing, and how beautiful his rendition of “I’ll Follow the Sun” was to him, but the brunette was smoothing down her skirt and flipping her hair back. He suddenly felt much too old and much too serious for Jaskier’s world. 

He smiled at Jaskier instead, and left as quickly as he could. He told himself he was imagining the disappointment he saw in Jaskier’s eyes.

* * * *

A few days earlier, Geralt had discovered that Eskel’s office had a view of the front door of the coffee shop. Geralt might have found himself standing there an hour or so later. Just… watching the traffic. For no particular reason. He stood there long enough that Eskel asked what he was doing. 

Right as he was about to snap at Eskel to mind his own fucking business, the front door opened. Jaskier was leaving with a woman on his arm. His heart dropped, sure it was the pretty brunette. 

He felt like laughing when he saw it was not. It was Triss, whom Geralt was pretty sure was not romantically involved with Jaskier. Triss had basically thrown Jaskier at him when she invited Geralt to the show tonight. 

He turned from the window and told Eskel to mind his own fucking business anyway. But he couldn’t help the ridiculous grin that spread across his face. 

* * * * 

The next morning Geralt opened his closet door, towel wrapped around his waist, and eyed his row of suits. He had been wearing his darkest grey suit yesterday, so today he chose his lightest grey. He wasn’t going to lie, this one hugged every muscle just right. 

Geralt got up at 5:00 a.m. just about every day to work out for an hour before his day started, and he might as well show off the muscles occasionally, right? 

Around lunch time he grabbed his laptop bag, made sure his tie was straight, and headed across the street. His heart dropped when he didn’t see Jaskier behind the till, but was relieved when he spotted him at the other end of the counter making drinks. 

He ordered his double espresso and hopefully made his way over to Jaskier. 

“Good morning,” he said, meeting Jaskier’s eye. 

“Good morning,” Jaskier replied, and lowered his eyes shyly for a moment. Geralt found himself wanting to reach over and touch Jaskier’s cheek to see if it was as soft as it looked. 

“How are you today?” Geralt asked instead, willing Jaskier to maintain eye contact so he might drown in that blue. 

“I’m fine. Yes, good. I- How are you, Geralt?” He tried not to visibly shiver at the sound of his name on Jaskier’s lips. 

“Good, thank you.” Geralt could not look away. 

Jaskier bent over the espresso machine to prepare Geralt’s drink. 

Geralt watched his long, deft fingers. 

When it was ready, Jaskier placed Geralt’s cup on the counter. “Here you go. Enjoy.”

Geralt nodded crisply, attempting to snap himself out of another fantasy (those _fingers_ ) and thanked him, before heading over to the same table by the window and pulling out his laptop. 

_ Don’t stare, _ Geralt told himself, trying to play it the tiniest bit cool.  _ Don’t look. _ Then he immediately looked.

And Jaskier was looking back. 

Geralt’s pulse picked up again, as he turned back to his screen. Would he come over?

When he could sense someone approaching him, Geralt looked up, and felt a wave of giddiness wash over him when it was Jaskier.  _ Giddy. _ He was actually giddy. Fuck.

“Hello,” he said, thinking of nothing better to say.

“Hi,” Jaskier said softly. 

“Would you like to sit down?” Geralt reached over and pushed the other chair out a bit, realizing too late that he was leaning awfully close to Jaskier’s crotch. Geralt felt his cheeks flare again. 

“I’d love to,” Jaskier murmured, sliding into the chair. 

Geralt folded his legs back so they wouldn’t bump into Jaskier’s. 

“Thank you again for coming last night. I haven’t played in front of a crowd in a long time. I don’t even really remember how it went, it’s all a bit of a blur actually,” he chuckled, pushing his bangs back. 

Geralt again pictured Eskel lying on his office floor, peaceful and content with the sound of the Beatles washing over him. He wanted to tell Jaskier about it, but instead all that came out was, “It was- you’re welcome. I don’t know a lot about music but I thought you were very good.” 

Jaskier nodded and looked at his hands. 

_ Fuck. You need to say more, _Geralt told himself. 

“You played ‘I’ll Follow the Sun’,” he finally managed. “That’s one of my brother Eskel’s favourite songs.” 

The smile on Jaskier’s face was worth the effort. 

“It’s one of mine, too.” Jaskier shifted and his knee bumped against Geralt’s under the table. Their eyes met in acknowledgement of the contact and Geralt felt a small jolt of electricity. 

“So, you’re a big, fancy lawyer?” Jaskier immediately blurted. 

Geralt softly chuckled, hiding his embarrassment.

“Fancy, no. Conrad Vesemir is actually my father-”

“Wait, you’re the ‘and Sons’?” Jaskier looked at him with wide eyes. 

Geralt shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  _ Here we go.  _ He desperately did not want Jaskier to start seeing him as Conrad Vesemir’s son. 

“I’m one of. My father has three sons, and yes, we all work for him. I have spent the last ten years or so working for our satellite firms around the country, dealing with whatever monster cases they needed help with. I just decided I’d had enough and wanted to stay here for a while.” 

Geralt heard himself rambling on, when all he really wanted to do was listen to Jaskier talk.

Jaskier’s eyes were still wide, but they shifted over towards the counter.

“I should probably get back there, my boss doesn’t like it when we sit out here…” 

Geralt felt the moment slipping away again, and he paused to think of the proper words for asking Jaskier out to dinner.

He was about to open his mouth to ask when his godsdamned fucking phone rang. He saw “Lambert” on the screen as he snatched it off the table with a silent curse. 

“Sorry,” he mouthed at Jaskier. “Yes?” he answered. 

“Get your motherfucking ass over here NOW!” Lambert’s voice erupted in his ear. “Shit’s hit the fan, Vengerberg is on my ass because the contracts didn’t get delivered in time and I can’t even tell you…”

“Yes, I’m on my way.” Geralt attempted to cram in before he turned to Jaskier, holding his phone away from his face, “I’m so sorry, it’s work, I need to go.” 

“Yes, of course. I’ll talk to you next time.” Jaskier was already on his feet. 

“Yes. Sorry again, I…” He looked at Jaskier regretfully. The moment had indeed slipped away. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Sounds good,” Jaskier smiled at him and gave a small wave as Geralt hurried out the door, trying to tell Lambert to shut the fuck up and let him talk for a second. 

* * * * 

Lambert burst off the elevator into Geralt’s condo, cell phone raised in the air triumphantly, bow tie undone and loose around his neck. 

“Fuck yeah, motherfuckers!” He whooped in excitement and launched himself over the back of Geralt’s couch, landing mostly on Geralt who shoved him off with an annoyed grunt. 

“Where’s my scotch?” he asked Eskel, who pointed his own glass in the direction of the wet bar with an amused smile. 

Before he could blink, Lambert grabbed Geralt’s glass and downed it all in one gulp.

Geralt growled at him, but wrenched the empty glass out of his hand and stalked over to the wet bar to refill it and grab the other drink. He handed one to Lambert and sat back down on the couch, a little closer to Jaskier to give Lambert’s wild arm gestures some room. 

Lambert was recounting his last phone call in a breathless play-by-play and Geralt couldn’t help but feel a spark of affection for his little brother. Constantly fucking Geralt’s shit up, but a brilliant and passionate lawyer. Lambert had, in fact, almost tanked his relationship with Jaskier before it even began. 

* * * *

The Monday morning after Jaskier’s performance, Geralt attempted to slip out of the office unnoticed, but Lambert caught him in the hallway and fell into step. 

“So I’m on the phone with Aiden this morning,” Lambert started, as if they were already in the middle of a conversation, “and he tells me that Cahir asshole has been on him for weeks now about that M&A for Yennefer…” 

Lambert’s story continued the entire way down the elevator and across the street, his voice becoming progressively louder. It wasn’t until they were almost in the door when it suddenly occurred to Geralt that this might have been a really bad fucking idea. 

The problem with Lambert was that he could sometimes be a self-absorbed asshole. And his asshole dial was turned up to eleven when he was in the thick of a war story. 

Geralt rapidly tried to form a plan in the three seconds he had before Jaskier would be taking their order. The best he could come up with was try to smile and hope Lambert didn’t say anything too embarrassing. 

It wasn’t a really  _ good  _ plan. 

They approached the counter, and Geralt’s stomach flip-flopped when Jaskier smiled back at him. Jaskier opened his mouth to say something, but he looked at Lambert, who had not stopped his ranting, and paused in confusion. 

Embarrassing.

“So then this asshole says to me that he’s going to sue Yennefer for everything she’s got until she’s living under a bridge. Are you fucking kidding me? Where do I even start with this fucking guy. I mean, jurisdiction, - black coffee - let alone limitations! I’m gonna fucking crush him for wasting our time...” Lambert never even looked at Jaskier when he ordered. 

Geralt felt a knot form in his stomach. Fuck. If he told Lambert to shut up, he’d lose his shit and it would be ten times worse. 

“The usual?” Jaskier finally mouthed at Geralt, raising an eyebrow. 

Geralt nodded and slid a ten across the counter. Lambert was still going. 

Geralt tried to shoot Jaskier an apologetic look while they were waiting for their drinks, but Jaskier didn’t look at him. 

Geralt managed to catch his eye as they were leaving, but something seemed wrong. Jaskier wasn’t smiling at all. Geralt gave him a small, useless nod, and they left. 

_ Fucking  _ Lambert. 

* * * *

The Lambert encounter stayed with him all night, and he was anxious to see Jaskier again the next day. When a space opened up at the counter, Geralt was dismayed to see it was the sour-looking blonde woman, not Jaskier. Before he could even think about what he was doing, he waved the person behind him ahead, waiting for Jaskier’s till to be open. 

“Good morning, Jaskier,” he said with a gentle smile when it was his turn. 

“Hi, Geralt. No angry men with you today?” Jaskier’s smile was tight, the words a little sharp.

Geralt’s stomach dropped. 

Fuck. He’d been embarrassed by Lambert’s ranting but in a completely selfish way. He was worried about the way Lambert had made  _ him  _ feel. He suddenly felt like a huge asshole for not considering the way it had made Jaskier feel. 

Explanations and excuses swirled through his head. The scars Lambert had, both mental and physical, the bottled rage that sometimes burst to the surface… Explaining his brother to someone he barely knew in a coffee shop was not something he could do. 

So Geralt offered the best he could. 

“That was my brother, Lambert. He… gets worked up about things. It’s best to just let him run out of steam when he gets like that.” He shrugged, the weight of what he was not saying and the hurt it was causing Jaskier heavy between them. 

Jaskier nodded and his smile just looked so fucking sad. Geralt didn’t know what else he could say, and felt something sinking in his chest. Hope, maybe. 

“Double espresso, coming up.” 

Geralt nodded, handed Jaskier a bill, and found all he could do was smile back sadly. 

Geralt sat down at his regular table and read through some contracts feeling miserable, while Jaskier very clearly ignored him. He didn’t stay long. 

* * * * 

His guilt and confusion quickly turned into anger. Anger at Lambert and at himself for not having the words to explain what happened. 

Geralt stomped back up to his office, threw himself into the chair behind his desk, and began taking it out on his keyboard. He had barked at three separate assistants, sending them fleeing from his office, before Eskel came in. 

“What?” Geralt growled when he saw Eskel’s hulking form in the doorway. 

Eskel held his hands up.

“Just came to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay,” he grumbled, continuing to pound on his keyboard. 

Eskel regarded him calmly for a moment. 

“Who is he?”

“What?” Geralt’s head snapped up. 

“I said, ‘Who is he?’ You’ve clearly got something going on, the way you’ve been slipping out of here every day and coming back actually  _ smiling. _ But you’ve fucked it up somehow.” 

Geralt felt his anger deflating, and the hopelessness welled up again. He leaned back in his chair and looked at Eskel helplessly. He found himself telling Eskel all about Jaskier, and what had happened with Lambert. 

“So he felt like shit, and you didn’t do anything about it,” Eskel summed up in that concise, lawyery way he had. 

There was no point in arguing. 

“What do I do now?” Geralt asked simply.

“He needs to know how you feel. And if you can’t tell him, you need to show him.”

“It might be too late.”

Eskel shrugged. 

“Maybe. But if he’s your sun, you follow him.” 

* * * *

Geralt strode into the shop Wednesday, taken aback a moment by how busy it was. He was further rattled when he didn’t see Jaskier anywhere, but Triss was on the tills and he waited impatiently to ask her if Jaskier was there. 

He was scanning the shop when someone pushed through the door into the back and he saw the bluest eyes in the world looking back at him. 

Geralt smiled at Jaskier, who was hunched over some boxes, and then the door swung shut again. 

He realized Triss was waiting for him, an amused grin on her face. 

“Hi,” he said to her, cheeks warm. 

“Hi,” she replied knowingly. 

_ Oh. Okay. So we’re not dancing around this, then. _ Geralt nodded and took a deep breath, preparing to ask her if he still had a chance. But before he could, she spoke again.

“Jaskier’s performing again tonight. Please come. I know it would mean a lot to him.”

Geralt felt a warmth wash over him. 

Just try and fucking stop him. 

Geralt strode outside, but instead of crossing the street, he turned right and went into the men’s clothing store two doors down. He needed to buy a shirt. 

* * * * 

Geralt took a calming breath before he pushed open the door to Jitters the next day. His eyes found Jaskier’s the moment he stepped inside, and he was thrilled to realize he had gotten the blue just right. His new shirt was the exact colour of Jaskier’s eyes. He only ever wore black, white, and grey. Surely Jaskier wouldn’t fail to notice. 

Jaskier was on the bar making drinks again and Geralt didn’t even bother to pretend he wasn’t staring while he waited to place his order. When he finally approached Jaskier, Geralt could swear his cheeks were a little pink, and he felt a stirring deep inside. 

“I like your shirt,” Jaskier smiled at him as he handed Geralt his drink. Their fingertips brushed lightly together, sending a spark down Geralt’s arm. “I’ve never seen you in an actual colour before.” 

Geralt tilted his head and smiled back, eyes searching. Jaskier didn’t get it.

“Yes, I decided that I... like blue,” Geralt said meaningfully. 

Jaskier nodded. “It suits you.” Polite. Still didn’t get it. 

“Does it?” Geralt replied, lowering his voice, eyes still looking for a spark of understanding in Jaskier’s. 

“Yes, it does.” The silence stretched for a moment, then something closed in Jaskier’s face. 

He told Geralt to have a good day and turned to pick up the next mug. 

Geralt felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. 

He wasn’t done yet though. He had tried to show Jaskier, but maybe he needed to suck it up and just fucking tell him. 

* * * * 

The four of them sipped their scotch, Geralt’s eyes heavy on Jaskier. He watched Jaskier throw his head back laughing at one of Lambert’s outlandish stories. Geralt looked at Jaskier’s long, exposed neck and felt something stir in his gut. 

Eskel, coming to the rescue yet again, noticed Geralt noticing, and drained his scotch with a final gulp. 

“Time for us to be going,” he announced. 

“Going? It’s not even midnight!” Lambert grumbled. 

Eskel glared at him, and a sly smile of understanding replaced Lambert’s scowl. 

“If you say a fucking word right now…” Geralt suddenly rumbled at his little brother, leaving the sentence unfinished in what he hoped was a sufficiently threatening way.

Lambert snickered, but let Eskel drag him out by the back of the neck and shove him into the elevator. 

“You two have a good night,” Eskel called as the elevator doors slid shut. 

Alone. 

Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, who had leaned back into the couch and was looking at him with half-closed eyes. He slid his hand onto Geralt’s knee and squeezed. 

“Shall we take this into the bedroom?” he murmured as his hand slid farther up Geralt’s thigh. 

Geralt stood and offered his hand to Jaskier in reply. 

He led Jaskier down the hall behind him, thanking Eskel and all the gods. 

* * * * 

After Jaskier had failed to notice his blue shirt, Geralt spent the rest of the day waiting for 6:00, a nervous ball of energy. He was almost thankful for the distraction when his father pulled him and his brothers into his office around 4:00 to hash out the latest crisis. 

He was less thankful when 5:00 ticked by with no end in sight. 

By 6:00 he was losing his fucking mind. 

He hadn’t said anything more about Jaskier to Eskel, but he could feel his brother’s eyes on him. Eskel began to do a remarkable job of shutting down new threads of discussion before they could go anywhere, took any proposed work onto his plate quickly, and, at the first pause in the conversation, he started making “let’s wrap it up” noises. 

When Vesemir looked at his watch and said, “We can pick this up tomorrow,” Geralt was on his feet and out the door, giving Eskel a grateful look. He didn’t even bother to stop for his jacket and tie. 

He flew across the street and tumbled into Jitters, feeling terrible that Jaskier was already playing. He saw Jaskier notice him, then shoot a look into the crowd. 

Geralt followed with his eyes and saw Triss grinning back. So Triss hadn’t told Jaskier he was coming. He hoped this was a good surprise. 

Geralt found a seat in the back as Jaskier continued to play. When he looked up, Jaskier’s eyes were on him. He was glowing, warm and bright, and Geralt felt his heart swell in response. 

Jaskier’s eyes closed and his voice soared, and Geralt watched his joy radiate from the stage. This was clearly what this man was meant to do. 

Geralt found himself wrapped in the song, his swollen heart now bursting, pushing the air from his lungs. Geralt leaned forward, hands clasped to forearms, and he couldn’t breathe. 

Jaskier was perfect. 

As the last note faded, he opened his eyes. Their gazes met, and for a moment they just looked at each other. 

Then something changed. 

Jaskier’s eyes widened, his lips parted, and then a slow smile stretched over his face. 

A heartbeat later, he began to sing.

_ It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside _  
_ I'm not one of those who can easily hide _

Geralt froze. Jaskier had not looked away. Was this… for him? 

_ Oh, I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do _  
_ My gift is my song and this one's for you _

Geralt held his breath, this moment shimmering in front of him. He began to smile. 

_ Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean _  
_ Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen _

Jaskier was smiling, too. 

_ And you can tell everybody this is your song _  
_ It may be quite simple but now that it's done _  
_ I hope you don't mind _  
_ I hope you don't mind _  
_ That I put down in words _  
_ How wonderful life is while you're in the world _

When the song ended, Geralt’s world was only Jaskier. He watched him step off the stage, Triss grabbing his guitar for him on the way by. 

Geralt stood slowly as Jaskier approached him. 

He stopped, inches away. The two men smiled at each other, Geralt’s heart singing. 

“You didn’t say anything,” Jaskier finally said, voice low and only for Geralt. 

Geralt tilted his head and looked at him with soft eyes. 

“Neither did you.” 

“I didn’t think you would be interested in your barista,” Jaskier shrugged, running his hand through his hair. 

Geralt’s brain tried to process how Jaskier could possibly think that.

“I came to watch you sing when I had only ever ordered coffee from you before. I actually-” he stopped abruptly, embarrassed. 

“You what?” Jaskier said, creeping closer, until there was only a breath between them. 

Geralt inhaled him. “I cancelled my meeting last week so I wouldn’t miss your singing. And then I even bought…” He stopped again, wondering if Jaskier had noticed yet. 

“You even bought a shirt the exact colour of my eyes,” Jaskier finished softly. 

Geralt nodded, any potential embarrassment at the gesture melting away when he saw the look Jaskier was giving him. His eyes drifted down to Jaskier’s lips then back up, gold melting into blue. 

Jaskier leaned in and placed his lips gently on Geralt’s. Geralt huffed a contented sigh of relief and kissed him back, soft and sweet. 

The kiss deepened, and Geralt was starting to forget everything except the feeling of those warm lips on his and Jaskier’s hands sliding up his back. 

The moment was rather shattered when, “And a big thank you to Jaskier! Let’s hear it for him again!” boomed over the microphone. 

Jaskier turned to face the crowd again, and Geralt was somewhat startled to see a room full of people watching and smiling. 

Jaskier waved at the crowd.

“Thanks everyone! I’ll be back next week!” he called out, and turned back to Geralt whose arms were still wrapped around him. 

Jaskier kissed him again and carefully rested their foreheads together. 

“Geralt, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

Geralt breathed in this moment, held it carefully in his heart. “I thought you would never ask.”

Geralt took Jaskier’s hand, and looked at him. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the shock of diving into those pools of blue.

Together, blue eyes and blue shirt, they walked out the door and into the night.

They found an Italian place a few doors away, snagging a cozy table in a corner, and talked the rest of the night. 

Geralt suddenly found himself sharing everything with Jaskier. He told him a little bit about his job - big, scary corporate lawyer who spent most of his time in conference rooms haggling over contracts or yelling at people over the phone - but shyly explained that he also took some pro bono work. He occasionally ended up in court fighting for the little guy who had been wronged but otherwise couldn’t afford a good lawyer. 

He told Jaskier about his childhood. Vesemir had, in fact, adopted the three of them when they were children, after they had already spent years bouncing from foster home to foster home. 

Jaskier held Geralt’s hand across the table.

None of them had had a happy childhood until Vesemir rescued them, but Lambert had had it particularly bad. He could blow up, sometimes with seemingly no provocation, and Geralt had learned to avoid pushing certain buttons. 

He apologized for not considering how Jaskier felt when he didn’t step in during Lambert’s rant, and promised to never do it again. Jaskier squeezed his hand and told him it was okay, his eyes moist. 

They talked until the restaurant closed, and held hands still when Geralt walked Jaskier to his car. 

When Jaskier leaned back against his car door, Geralt kissed him again hungrily. It was a kiss full of promises, and Geralt meant every one of them. 

* * * * 

They had been dating for four weeks by this point, with wining and dining and plenty of kissing, but they had not slept together yet. Geralt was determined to be the perfect gentleman, and had indeed brought Jaskier to the firm Christmas party tonight. Jaskier had been nervous at first, but he charmed anyone who came near. 

Geralt had watched him smiling and laughing easily with his colleagues, proud to have this endearing, gorgeous man with him. But as the night wore on, pride turned into something else. Geralt’s eyes swept up and down the long lines of Jaskier in a tux, and he felt a heat building inside. 

Jaskier had been chatting with a group of associates when he looked up and saw Geralt’s eyes smouldering at him. Geralt had had enough. 

Jaskier gracefully excused himself and made his way over to Geralt who surprised him with a fiery kiss. 

“Can I take you home with me?” he asked as they pulled apart. 

Jaskier’s cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol and warm ballroom, but they reddened further. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

And now, here they were, standing at the foot of Geralt’s bed, Jaskier carefully unbuttoning the rest of Geralt’s shirt and sliding it gently down his arms.

Geralt ripped Jaskier’s shirt off, buttons flying. 

Jaskier gaped. “That was a rental, Geralt!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Geralt promised, pressing his lips to Jaskier’s now bare collarbone. 

“Hmm, if this is what happens next, feel free to rip all of my shirts open,” he sighed, as Geralt’s teeth grazed his skin. 

They fell onto the bed together, kissing and wiggling and laughing as they removed the rest of their clothing. 

Stretched out on the bed, Geralt leaned over Jaskier, taking in the sight of his lean, naked body in the moonlight. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to Jaskier’s, hungry to taste all of him. 

Jaskier sighed and ran his hands down Geralt’s back, pressing their bodies together. 

“Oh gods, Geralt,” he groaned, as Geralt ran his tongue down his neck. “Will you please fuck me now?”

Geralt touched him tenderly, carefully, while Jaskier writhed and begged him to go faster. 

When Geralt finally pressed into him, they moaned together. Geralt stilled, taking a moment to savour the heat of Jaskier’s body.

Jaskier’s hips bucked up, and Geralt began to move above him, his breath quickening. 

“Geralt…” Jaskier breathed, head thrown back. 

Geralt felt a shiver travel over every inch of him and he pressed his nose into Jaskier’s neck, inhaling his sweet smell.

An overwhelming wave of tenderness engulfed him, and he wanted nothing more than to be good to this man, to make him happy. To love him. 

He moved faster, their breath coming in gasps, sweat glistening on their skin. 

“Fuck, Geralt,” Jaskier cried out again, and Geralt found himself slowing, looking into his eyes. The blue looking back at him was so intense, so full of love. The words fell from Geralt’s lips. 

“I love you, Jaskier.”

Eyes shining, Jaskier arched his back and pushed into Geralt with a soft smile.

“I love you, too, Geralt.”

He wrapped a hand around Geralt’s neck and pulled him down to kiss him wetly. Their tongues wound together. Geralt’s heart pounded, and he had never been happier in his life. 

Later, when they lay tangled and sticky in the sheets, Geralt pushed Jaskier’s hair off of his forehead and gently brushed his fingers across his cheek. 

“What?” Jaskier smiled at him languidly.

“I was just thinking about ‘Your Song’...” Geralt smiled, gently kissing his forehead, as he wrapped both arms around him.

How wonderful life was. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked part 2! ~~Part 3 is in the works so subscribe to me or this series if you would like to read it.~~ Part 3 is now up!
> 
> Come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LovelyRita1967) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lovelyrita1967). I follow back! 
> 
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